


Doctor vs Dentist

by mistressterably



Series: One offs - Doctor Who related [9]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2015-08-20
Packaged: 2018-04-16 07:53:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4617363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistressterably/pseuds/mistressterably
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Anon tumblr prompt: 12th Doctor gets a severe tooth ache, Clara takes him to the dentist where he is prescribed antibiotics & analgesia, the Doctor being an alien has adverse reactions to the medications. Clara is besides herself, decides to seek help from UNIT and Doctor expert Osgood & Kate.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Doctor vs Dentist

**Author's Note:**

> Anon tumblr prompt: 12th Doctor gets a severe tooth ache, Clara takes him to the dentist where he is prescribed antibiotics & analgesia, the Doctor being an alien has adverse reactions to the medications. Clara is besides herself, decides to seek help from UNIT and Doctor expert Osgood & Kate.

His jaw ached, pain shooting up from his molar into his brain. Sat in his large chair, the Doctor pressed a palm over the area trying to ease it somewhat and not succeeding. His eyebrows were beetled together in pain. Clara joined him, a look of concern on her face. 

‘Is it worse then?’

‘Yes.’ He mumbled. ‘Feels like my face is on fire.’

‘Can I have a look at it?’ Clara asked. The Doctor nodded and gingerly opened his mouth. She gently got him to open a little wider and she tilted her head to look inside his mouth. Still being as gentle as she could, Clara eased the Doctor’s lip away from his upper left molars and gasped. 

‘Wha?’ The Doctor spoke as best he could with his mouth held open by Clara.

What Clara had seen was a hard white, pus filled boil just against the root of his one molar. She let go of his mouth, letting him rest as best he could. ‘Oh my.’

‘What is it?’ He mumbled, fighting the pain still. 

‘You have a very bad abscess and it’s threatening to burst through your gum.’ Clara was white. ‘We really do need to get you to a dentist.’

‘No, no. I’ll be fine. If it’s come to a head, there’s a lancet on my worktable..’

‘Good grief! NO!’ Clara backed away physically from the idea. ‘If you think I'm going to even attempt to lance that abscess you are just plain mad! I'm taking you to my dentist. I'm sure he’ll see you as an emergency walk in.’ Clara was already pulling out her mobile and, with his continued mumble protests, she had her dentist’s office agreeing to see him within the hour. ‘Now, remember, you’re travelling here from Scotland and you just need emergency care.’  
‘I'm not a good patient.’ He grumbled, still annoyed, but following her out of the TARDIS and through her apartment. ‘OW’ He barked in pain at the motorcycle helmet strap resting against his cheek. ‘Just go!’

Clara took off on the motorcycle, the Doctor clutching desperately to her waist and grimacing in sheer pain. The ten minute drive through the streets of London felt like a face-jarring eternity to the Doctor, each bump and jostle digging into his cheek and sending spikes of pain right into his skull. 

At the dentist office, he scrunched into one of the small chairs there, his long legs stuck out almost tripping over someone trying to get past him. ‘Sorry,’ He mumbled painfully as he drew his legs in closer. Clara sat there, stroking his shoulder to try to comfort him as they waited. The dental assistant came in finally and asked for ‘Doctor Smith?’

The Doctor shot Clara a look of annoyance at using his normal pseudonym and followed the assistant to the office. His feet jutted off the end of the chair and he wanted to rip off the ridiculous paper bib they put around his neck. The assistant tried to make small talk as she would usually with patients but the sour look he shot her shut her down. 

The dentist came in, directed the Doctor to open wide and was quickly tutting and making comments to his assistant. As soon as his probe hit the pus-filled boil on the Doctor’s gum he almost shot from the chair in agony. The assistant had anticipated the reaction and had a hand on his chest, pinning him down. ‘Right, I’m going to skip the x-rays for now. It’s quite clear you have a bad abscess that is close to erupting. I'm going to write up a prescription. Are you going to be in town still in seven days?’

‘Not if I can help it.’ The Doctor grumbled in an even more foul mode than the start of the visit. ‘Can you not fix this now?’

‘No. Take these for the next seven days and then see your regular dentist. We have to clear the infection first.’ The dentist finished up the prescription and was about to leave.

‘The boil. Pop it.’ 

‘Heavens no! It’s full of infected material. The prescription will clear it quickly. Take care Doctor Smith.

Still in severe agony the Doctor left, grabbed Clara roughly by the hand. The receptionist had a challenge in getting him to pay first. Grumbling he waited as Clara took care of that detail, shooting him a ‘You will so be paying me back dearly.’ look. He stomped out of the dentist office and handed her the prescription sheet. Clara took it from him and tried to read it with no luck. Leaving him to pace about the motorcycle, Clara went to the neighbouring pharmacist and quickly had them filled. Returning to him, Clara snapped at him. ‘Stop being a prat! There is no need to try and rip off advertising that offends you just because you’re in pain.’ She barked at him, making him stop picking furiously at a poster that had been plastered to the wall advertising some bad movie poster of an anniversary airing of Alien.

‘Hmph.’ He took the bag from her and looked at the bottles. ‘Tylenol 2 300 mg every four to six hours and Amoxicillin immediately and one every 12 hours until done.’ They were back on her motorcycle and, once more in jarring agony, they returned to her apartment. A glass of water in hand, the Doctor popped open the pill bottles and shook out the required pills and quickly swallowed them. Clara joined him with a towel wrapped around a number of ice cubes. 

‘Try to relax, Doctor. I'm sure these will help and then we’ll find another dentist to follow up with you.’ She pressed the cold cloth against his cheek and watched him just close his eyes and wait for the drugs to kick in. 

Clara was shaken awake by the Doctor. ‘Clara!’ His voice was even more muffled now. 

She woke up and opening her eyes she gasped. ‘Doctor! What’s wrong!’

‘Allergic.. drugs...’ He choked out even as his face continued to swell and redden. 

‘Oh my word!’ Clara was scrambling for her mobile. She hastily dialled in the number for Kate Lethbridge-Stewart. ‘Hang on Doctor. I'm getting help.’ He nodded, clutching his cheek as it continued to throb in agony. 

‘Kate! Oh thank goodness! I need help. The Doctor is in agony and he’s having a reaction to some drugs.’

‘Tell me the symptoms.’ Kate said, grabbing a pen to make some notes. 

‘Swelling in the face, his skin is going red. Laboured breathing. Still in pain from the abscessed tooth.’  
‘An abscessed tooth?’ Kate sounded surprised. ‘Alright, I'm going to have Osgoode come right over with the van. We’ll have to bring him here to the Tower.’

‘Hurry! Please!’ Clara begged. ‘Hang on Doctor, UNIT will help.’ All the Doctor could do was grimace in pain and nod. The ice seemed to help so Clara got more and held it to his face until Osgoode and her team arrived. 

Osgoode arrived and took one look at the Doctor. ‘What did you take?’ She asked. Clara handed her the pill bottles. ‘Codeine. He must be allergic to that. We’ll have to get him to the UNIT hospital and pump him with antihistamines. Kate mentioned a tooth abscess?’

‘Yes, it’s on the verge of erupting.’ 

‘We’ll have to pull the tooth.’ 

The Doctor’s eyes went wide. ‘No!’ He mumbled. 

‘If it’s gotten that bad then the tooth roots will be rotting away. It’ll have to come out.’ Osgoode nodded to the two men who had accompanied her to help him but he fought their attempts to take hold of him. Osgoode shook her head, glanced at Clara and took a syringe out of her lab coat pocket. As he was struggling with the men, Osgoode jabbed him in the neck with the sedative and he was quickly going to his knees, limp. 

Without the Doctor’s resistance to slow them down, they had him strapped to the stretcher quickly and making their way to the van and then to the Tower. Clara was allowed to come along and soon found herself behind a large glass window looking onto an operating theatre. A needle had been inserted into the Doctor’s wrist and a large dose of antihistamines were flowing into his veins. Osgoode came to her side to watch as well. 

‘How did he get an abscessed tooth anyway?’

‘He mentioned something about a sticky syrup concoction he had tried when he was bored while I was teaching.’ Clara said.

‘Only himself to blame then.’ Osgoode stated. They watched, Clara squirmed visibly as the Doctor’s mouth was pried open as wide as possible and a lancet popped the boil on his gum. Next, the surgeon was working the rotted tooth out of the Doctor’s mouth. 

‘Good thing he’s sedated.’ Osgoode said. ‘Imagine what a horrible patient he’d be with just some freezing?’

‘Doesn’t bear thinking!’ Clara said. 

By the time the surgery had been completed, the antihistamines had cleared up the swelling of his face and the redness. As the sedation wore off, the Doctor woke up and became even more irritable than he was normally. ‘CLARA!’ His voice was heard through the entire hallway and Clara made her way to his room. ‘Where are my clothes!’ He barked as she entered the room. It took a lot for her to not laugh at him in the standard hospital gown, barely closed at the back, as he was storming around the room looking for his clothes. 

‘Doctor.’ Clara coughed, getting more than she would have hoped for by way of views of his butt cheeks, ‘They’re down the hall at the nurses’ station why don’t you sit down and I’ll go get them for you.’

‘Never mind! I’ll get them!’ And he was off down the hall to the protests of the nurses that he passed on the way. Clara just left his room, watched him rage about and shook her head at the sight of him, all legs and arms and flimsy gown flying about to find his clothes. Osgoode was almost bowled over by him as she arrived to see how he was doing. ‘You!’ The Doctor turned on her. ‘You! Stop jabbing me with your needles!’ 

‘Your welcome, Doctor.’ Osgoode said, remaining calm. ‘How’s the tooth.’

‘It’s gone!’ He grumbled. ‘You just thank your lucky stars it’ll grow back!’ He finally had all of his clothes again and was heading back to his room and slamming the door behind him. Minutes later he was dressed and, Clara’s hand in his, heading out of the hospital. 

‘Shouldn’t you wait to be release?’ Clara asked.

‘No! I can do that at your place. Dressed in proper clothes!’ He said. Clara shrugged at Osgoode, managed a quick goodbye and then they were gone. Not until they were well along the streets away from the Tower did the Doctor slow down at all giving Clara a chance to catch her breath. He looked at her and just mumbled a thank you and that was the last they spoke about the time the Doctor lost a tooth.


End file.
